


The Divergent Path

by Mwizard10



Category: Critical Role (Web Series), Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:02:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27117197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mwizard10/pseuds/Mwizard10
Summary: When Percival de Rolo manages to escape the clutches of Anna Ripley, he sets off to reclaim his home. Can Percival succeed without the help of Vox Machina? Or will he fall and succumb to the devil he made a bargain with? Rated M for mature themes and violence.
Relationships: Percival "Percy" Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III/Vex'ahlia
Comments: 1
Kudos: 23





	1. Chapter 1

Percival screamed. He screamed as he felt the red hot iron press against his bare chest. He gritted his teeth and glared at the figure hovering over him. She was dressed in mockery of him. A long dark coat covered a deep blue vest that in turn hid most of a white shirt. Small pouches and bottles dangled and clattered against a tight belt. Doctor Anna Ripley, Percival had learned, was in many ways like him. A fact that he pondered and found unsettling when she left him alone. 

“A parting gift to remember me by Percival.” Ripley whispered. Percival groaned as he felt the rod slowly pull away from his skin. His body was marked with burns and scars, some of them still fresh. She grinned at him and carefully set the rod next to a collection of various knives. “I'll be gone for a little while. Be a good boy for me and perhaps I will give you a reward.”

Percival spat blood in response. She chuckled and stepped through the entrance to his cell, locking it behind her. She gave him a once over before quietly walking away, humming to herself. Percival shifted his footing, his hands bound and suspended above him. He tried to remain conscious but eventually succumbed to the pain. 

\---

When he next woke it was night. His whole body ached, having been suspended from chains for Pelor knows how long. His eyes darted across to the hallway but saw nothing but the table where Ripley had mockingly left his gear. 

His eyes traced over his tools before settling on a particular contraption. It was a set of 6 metal tubes, cycled around a bronze cylinder. On each of the tubes a name was inscribed onto it. The device was connected to a wooden handle, and a half bent metal ring protected a slender, curved trigger.

Ripley had experimented with it before deciding it was worthless, tossing it on the desk with the rest of his equipment. But Percival knew the power it held. And he cursed himself for not using it more effectively. Instead he had rushed in, and was captured. Again. 

Despair washed over him as he turned to look at the moon outside the barred windows. He knew his nights were ending. And part of him simply wanted to succumb to his injuries. Close his eyes and never open them again. But…a small fire burned in the middle of his chest. Ever since he had the dream. Ever since he had built such a dangerous weapon. Percival knew he was lost. But that didn't mean he had to die here. 

His eyes flicked up to the manacles around his wrists and he gently tugged on each. One of the bolts rattled and hope sprung up inside of his chest. For the next several hours, Percival concentrated on nothing but freeing the bolt. It rattled around and around, seemingly so close to falling out. And yet as the hours passed. He found himself no closer to salvation. 

Growling in frustration, Percival tried to kick at the chains but found he couldn't quite reach. He looked around the room wildly, searching for an answer. Panic started to seep in, it was late. He was exhausted and he hadn't a clue when Ripley was returning.

He looked back towards the loosened bolt and steeled himself. He started to stretch with his leg to try and kick it loose. The manacles stopped him before he reached and he squeezed his eyes shut, breathing deeply and yanked. His hand and wrist cried out in pain as he moved closer and closer. He heard a sickening  _ snap _ and felt pain radiating from his wrist. He cried out but kicked the stand that his manacles were bolted to. The bolt popped out and Percival quickly found himself suspended by his broken, or sprained, wrist. He yelled in pain and quickly got back to his feet, the budding of tears at the corners of his eyes.

Only being bound by one hand, Percival shifted over to the table closest to him. His wrist stung and radiated pain but he ignored it best he could. He reached out for a tool and found the chain yanking at his wrist. He grimaced and was able to slip a hammer to the floor. He used his boot to skid it over so that he could pick it up. He started to hammer it against the chain that held his wrist. He yanked and the chain pulled free from the wall. 

Percival stood for a moment, basking in the moonlight as the two chains hung limply from his wrists. He groaned in pain but shuffled over to the cell door and stared at the lock. His entire body screamed for rest. But he knew Ripley could be back soon. He sighed and shuffled back over to the tools that she had left behind. He picked up a smaller pole that ended in a needle and a few other supplies and deftly dismantled the lock. He tiredly pushed the door open and looked at his belongings with a faint grin. 

He shuffled through a few pouches and found a healing potion. He sighed in relief and uncorked it, downing the entire thing. He let out a soft moan as his wrist stopped hurting and the wounds across his body started to heal. He knew it wouldn't help everything. But it would be enough. He chucked the bottle back into a pouch and slowly strapped the various belts and straps around him. He winced as the lingering injury in his wrist spiked in pain. With everything equipped, Percival stared down at the device. At his gun. He remembered the billowing black smoke that had spoken to him. Had given him the ideas. His hand twitched, before finally picking up the device.

He shoved a hand into one of his pouches and pulled out a few metal marbles. A small amount of black powder was poured down each of the barrels and the marbles were packed in. Percival couldn't help but grin. He strode down the hallway confidently and noted the lack of any lights in the facility. He carefully checked each corner before hastily making his way to the entrance. Checking outside he saw two guards posted. They were leaning against the wall, staring out at the night sky. 

Percival stared at them for a few moments. He glanced down the hall to his right and back out through the doors. He made sure to keep to the shadows. Percival felt his heart beat a little faster and a small shiver went down his spine. Although he would never admit it, he wasn't sure if it was out of fear or excitement. He slowly raised his hand and curled a finger around the trigger.

With a deafening BOOM the door splintered open, flying back across the ground. In one moment the guard had his head, the next he didn't. The door smacked into the still living guard and Percival grinned. He raised his hand again and with a CRACK the guard stopped moving, his chest blown apart. 

This time Percival couldn't stop the feeling of excitement course through his body. He felt the adrenaline pump through his veins and he quickly found a rock to duck behind. He heard calls and worried yells from inside the complex and he took a few breaths and raised his hand again. He stared through the windows as a woman raced past and fired. The window shattered and all he saw was a splatter of blood before the figure dropped out of sight. He turned to another side of the rock before getting up and sprinting towards the woods.

He heard shouts and yells and heard the whistle of arrows strike against the trees around him. He turned and his eyes widened. Standing at the foot of the facility was Ripley, looking at him with amusement. Her eyes seemed to say,  _ You won't get away for long. _ A fire built inside of his chest and he snarled as an arrow embedded into his shoulder. 

**_KILL THEM. KILL HER. KILL THEM ALL._ ** ****

Percival's eyes widened as he heard the voice. The voice from his dreams in his head. But before he could even think, his hand raised and a roar went out. Ripley let out a scream, looking at him in surprise as she held the wound in her stomach. Blood poured out of her mouth and she collapsed to the ground. Several of the guards rushed to her side as Percival ducked behind a tree. He still felt the fire burn through his skin but he knew he needed to flee. This was how he lost last time. With one last glance back, he fled into the forest. As he ran, for a single moment, he swore he saw a few wisps of smoke fly out of the sleeves on his shirt.


	2. The Diverging Threads

Percival wiped the mud off of his face. He grimaced as he hauled himself out from under the tree. The morning sun’s light slipped through the tree-branches, instilling him with a little bit of warmth. He shook a few pieces of mud from his clothes and started his way towards the road. He was days away from Westruun, the closest city.

Percival crept through the woods, keeping mindful of tracks of larger animals and any potential bandits that might be stalking the road. He made sure to keep his mind blank, focusing on the pain and itches that he felt against the burns and scars that littered his body. He knew he only had a day's worth of food and water. After only a few hours, he was already exhausted.

He stumbled out onto the road and promptly collapsed. He groaned as he heard a cart making its way down the muddy path. He rolled over, only to yelp in surprise as he found himself face to face with a brown bear. It stared at him for a few moments before tilting its head. Like it was curious what a messy human was doing in the middle of the road.

“Trinket!” A woman's voice called out. Percival looked up to see the cart stopped in front of the massive creature. A woman who was dressed in varying degrees of misshapen leathers jumped out of the cart. Strapped to her back was a bow and tucked behind her ear were three blue feathers. A man who looked remarkably similar to the woman looked down at him from the cart. He was wearing varying degrees of black cloth, with flowing black hair to match.

“Why did we stop?” A nervous voice came from the cart. Percival slowly got to his feet, backing away from the bear a little to see that there were two more people in the cart. One was a red-haired woman who had a circlet with antlers attached to them. The other was a red-scaled dragonborn. Small glasses sat perched on the end of his snout. He felt a lick on his hand and he jerked back.

“GYAH!”

“Oh Trinket, leave the poor man alone!”

The woman ran over to the giant bear and wrapped her arms around it. Percival stared in complete disbelief before repositioning himself. He ignored the ache in his bones and muscles. The cries and screams in his burns and scars. His home was destroyed, and his family was slaughtered. But he still had a legacy to uphold.

“My name is Percival Fredrickstein von Musel Klossowski De Rolo the third.” He paused and grinned a little for dramatic effect. “But you may call me Percival.”

The woman blinked at him for a few seconds before chuckling. “Well Percival, what brings you to lay in front of our cart at this time of the day?”

“Just a little nap, It's quite comfortable. The road provides quite a lot of cushion. You should try it sometime.”

“Oh believe me, I have.”

At this point the man jumped down from the cart and looked towards Percival distrustfully. He glanced towards his... girlfriend, wife,... sister? After looking them over for a few moments, Percival was sure they were siblings, if at least related.

“You are covered in mud and your face is scarred. Are we to expect an attack from the rest of your bandit band?” The man said.

“No bandits, just myself. And do I say, I would make a very lousy robber in my condition. I'm afraid I lost my horse in the storm.”

“You could ride with us!” The woman with red hair piped up. Everyone looked over to her and she shrank back a little. “I mean… if that's okay with everyone else.”

The blue-feathered woman sighed and looked over at her brother/possible cousin. He gave her a stern look.

“Do you have any coin?”

Percival wordlessly threw a pouch and the woman deftly caught it, looking inside it and gasping.

“This is nearly a hundred gold!”

“I assume that's enough.”

The dark haired man raised his eyebrows and shrugged, hopping back into the cart. The nervous looking girl peered over and the woman looked impressed and pocketed the money.

“Vex’ahlia, or just Vex. He’s Vax.” She pointed towards the man. “That's Keyleth.” The nervous woman smiled. “And that's Tiberius.” The dragonborn was reading a book and barely gave a wave.

“We are looking for our friend. Giant of a man, quite literally.”

Percival nodded, absorbing and memorizing the names.

“We should be off then?”

“We should.” Vex confirmed and hopped back into the cart. Percival looked back at the bear.

“That's Trinket! Isn't he wonderful?!”

Percival refrained from any remarks and just carefully made his way onto the cart. Vex gave a quick tug at the reins and the cart started to make its way down the road. Tiberius briefly looked up from his book and snorted, smoke and fire billowing out dramatically. He snapped his fingers and Percival found himself free of mud and dirt. Though his clothes were still pockmarked and torn.

Percival glanced over at the woman named Keyleth and she quickly averted her gaze.

“So uh - what happened to you?”

“Like I said, I fell from my horse in the storm. I was being pursued by bandits and slipped. I managed to hide but… I honestly wasn't looking forward to the walk.” Percival replied.

“Is that where you got those burns?” Vax piped up. He nodded towards one of the rips in Percivals outfits. Percival glanced over at him and chuckled.

“I have a habit of being clumsy and careless. I camped inside of a cave, and when the bandits came, I'm afraid I was a little too hasty to get onto my horse.”

Vax nodded his head slowly, but didn’t look convinced. Keyleth looked between the two before piping back up.

“Well I'm glad we found you! Maybe you can help find our friend.”

Percival glanced at her quickly before nodding towards Vex.

“I believe I paid your treasurer. I have my own - business to take care of. I wish you good luck on your friend.”

“Yes, Grog has the habit of getting himself into situations. Hopefully Scanlan will have some insights.” Tiberius spoke up for the first time. Vax smiled and leaned back against the seat, his eyes never leaving Percival. He glanced down at Percivals hip and frowned.

“What's that?”

Percival paused for a few moments before carefully pulling his gun out, resting it simply against his knee.

“It's my weapon.”

Vex glanced back for a moment. “Nothing like Ive ever seen.”

Percival smiled grimly.“I wouldn't be surprised, it's something of my own design.”

“You made that?” Keyleth asked, leaning forward and observing the device.

“It's sort of like a crossbow, just more compact.” Percival explained before re-holstering his device. Vax’s eyes narrowed.

“So what are you? Some sort of weapons dealer?”

“Pelor no! That would frankly be ridiculous. I'm a hobbyist a simple-”

As Percival weaved yet another lie, there was a cry from the woods and several men rushed out with weapons. Vax’s hand flashed to his hip and a dagger appeared in his hand, a second away from Percivals throat.

“I knew it!”

“Keyleth, keep him tied up!” Vex called from the front, getting out a bow and knocking an arrow, firing at a man with a crossbow. Trinket ran forward and knocked over a bandit with an axe, tearing out their throat.

Percival suddenly found vines and flowers wrapping around his body, constricting his movements. His hand found his gun and pulled it out first. Tiberius stood and set the book aside, fire swirling around his claws before streaking towards the battlefield. Vax threw one of his daggers before a crossbow bolt caught him in the shoulder, he fell violently to the ground as a man rushed up, bringing his sword above his head.

Suddenly, there was a roaring thunder and the bandit was obliterated. Percival awkwardly pointed his gun from his bound position.

“Mind letting me go?” He grunted. Kelyth looked at him apologetically before letting the vines drop. As Perceival got to his feet his companions quickly dispatched the rest of the bandits. Vax got to his feet and dusted himself off.

“So, not a bandit then?”

Percival gave Vax an eye before jumping down off the cart and starting to rifle through their pockets. He felt himself freeze as he recognized the signation of Ripley's guards. He grimaced and pocketed some of the gold. He looked around to find the rest of the group rifling through the rest of the corpses.

“These aren't bandits.” Vax called, pocketing something as he jumped back onto the cart.

Vex frowned and glanced over at Percival. “Are these the ones that attacked you darling?”

Percival stared out into the forest for a few moments before shaking himself from his thoughts. “Hmmm? Might have been. I will admit I didn't pay close attention to clothing when I burnt myself and ran.”

Vex chuckled and pulled on the reins, starting the cart again.

* * *

The rest of the journey to Westruun was uneventful. The druid, Keyleth tried to make awkward small talk but Percival mostly deflected and eventually settled down to sleep off his injuries. A small part of him whispered that he shouldn't let his guard down, but honestly he was exhausted. If this strange rag-tag collection of people wanted to kill him or restrain him they easily could.

Percival found himself being jostled awake by Vax as the rest of the party was climbing out of the cart. He groaned and stretched, looking out at the city. It was a massive bustling hub of trade and it was the perfect place to gather supplies discreetly, if you knew the right people.

He jumped off the cart and walked up to Vex who assumed was the leader. “Thank you for picking up a stranger lying in the ditch and bringing him to a slightly less dirty part of the world.”

Vex glanced over at him and laughed. “Leaving already darling? Keyleth seemed to take a liking to you and we could certainly use the help.”

Percival opened his mouth to refuse and then paused. He felt a sudden pang of longing in his heart. It had been years since his family died. Surely Whitestone could sort itself out?  
He looked out at the group gathering supplies off the cart and felt a small connection forming. He was a tinkerer by nature and a scholar at heart. He wasn't a fighter, not really. That had been instilled and pressed into him over the past years.

Then he felt his gun pressing into his side through the holster. He slid it out and tilted it on its side, slowly tracing each of the names with his finger. Vex looked at him for a moment with confusion. He felt the familiar burning anger return.

“I'm sorry, I believe from my brief travel that you're all wonderful people. But you have your tasks, and I have mine. I don't expect we will see each other again.”

Percieval nodded goodbye towards Vex and walked away, his hand clenched tightly around the familiar grip of his gun.

* * *

  
Percival De Rolo was the type of man to make his investments carefully. Gold was hardly the only credit that Tal’Dorei worked under. Within a few short hours he had cashed a few favors and was now the proud owner of a cart and enough materials to keep him busy for months. He considered hiring escorts but the small voice inside his head convinced him they would only slow him down.

He carefully loaded the cart, putting a barrel of gunpowder inside when he felt a presence behind him.

“If I had known you were a merchant I would have requested more darling.”

Percival turned to see Vex standing with her arms crossed. He raised his eyebrows and leaned against the cart.

“Well, a disaffected merchant being run down by bandits hardly has much gold to spare. I promise I’ll make the difference the next time we meet.”

Vex stared at him for a moment. “I thought you said we wouldn't meet again Percival?”

Percival grinned and winked at her, jumping up onto the cart. Vex rolled her eyes and smiled a little in spite of herself.

“You know it suits you.” She called up. He glanced back down towards her with a confused expression. “The hair dye.”

Percival grimaced and shivered, looking up at the shock of white hair that hung down over his face. “A natural affliction I'm afraid. I was quite partial to my original hair color.”

“I think it makes you look distinguished.”

Percival smiled a little, looking back at her with more warmth in his eyes. “You know I'm not giving you more coin just for being a flirt.”

“I know” She says, mirth dancing in her eyes. Percival smiled more before picking up the reins of his horses. “Farwell Vex.”

“Goodbye Percy.” She said softly. Percival looked uncomfortable at the nickname but said nothing as the horses slowly started to pull his cart out of the city. He looked back at her for a few moments, a strange pang in his heart before he looked back towards the road. Towards the Turst Fields. Towards Whitestone. Towards the Briarwoods.

Towards his end.


End file.
